


Two Lions, a Cat and a Sonic Screwdriver, Oh, My!

by candygramme



Series: The Voyages of the Eye of Ra [3]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Crack, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:15:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27833656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candygramme/pseuds/candygramme
Summary: The Eye of Ra is in trouble, so Jared makes for his home planet, Khem.  The Goddesses are expecting him.
Relationships: Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki
Series: The Voyages of the Eye of Ra [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950976
Comments: 9
Kudos: 24





	Two Lions, a Cat and a Sonic Screwdriver, Oh, My!

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my Beta, Spoonlessone, who always goes over and above.

My home planet, Khem, is located in the Norma-Centaurus Arm of the Milky Way, so it’s going to take us six days to reach it, and I am a little worried because I just took a call from The Sekhmet, asking me for our estimated time of arrival. I’m concerned because I haven’t yet called them to tell them that we’re coming. This really isn’t something that’s happened to me before, and I am losing sleep pondering what can be the significance. It’s unusual to say the least.

It seems that the new Temporary Replacement Auxiliary Communications Interface has a somewhat saucy personality. She’s articulate and funny, but I’m very glad that she doesn’t have hands, because she’s definitely fixated on my ass. She’s complimented my workouts and marveled at my glutes to the extent that she actually asked Kurt if he wouldn’t mind bouncing a quarter off them for her. She had to explain what she meant then, because Kurt’s response was, and I quote, “A quarter of what?” It hasn’t stopped her.

Of course, I am flattered, and don’t take it seriously. It’s nothing like as offensive as the way that Misha ummed and salivated over Jensen’s unconscious carcass. Of course, Jensen’s telling me that it’s jealousy on my part, and maybe it is, but apparently Traci feels that I am the callipygous one, so I don’t feel too bad.

We are a day out from Khem, when it appears that Kurt is having a blue fit. I rush to the engine room, where he has his toolbench, and Misha laid out on it.

“We have a problem, captain. A serious problem.” He pointed to the tangle of wires and shiny bits on his desk. “I’m afraid that the ship itself might be in danger. We have to get rid of this, right now.” 

“Isn’t that Misha?” I ask, frowning. “How is he a danger to the ship?”

“It is, but look here.” Kurt hands me a magnifier and points into the bits and pieces littering the workbench. “It’s infested with splatterpillars.” I peer into the mess with trepidation and I can see a writhing mass of tiny creatures chewing on the wiring. One of them looks up at me with horribly knowing eyes before returning to chow down on a red wire.

“Oh, Serket,” I yell. “What do we do?”

“First we space the entire works here. It’s the only way to be sure they’ve gone and won’t be spreading. Then we get to planetfall as soon as we can and get the ship fumigated and completely overhauled.” Kurt looks up at me through red-rimmed eyes. “You need to act decisively if you want to save your ship. I expect we’ll need to replace your ship’s computer anyway. Not a problem. It was obsolete.” He gathers the pieces of Misha together and tips them all into a contamination bag, sealing it and handing it to me. “If you’re going to space that, best do it fast. The bugs will chew through the plastic within minutes.”

Just at that moment, Jensen pops his head around the door.”Dinner’s ready, Jared,” he announces, and I hand the bag to him. 

“This needs to be tossed out of the airlock into space immediately. Would you do that for me, while I finish up asking Kurt some stuff about the engine?” 

Jensen smirks. “Sure thing, boss,” he says, and I know that he understands, that he’s caught my thoughts about possible damage to our ship. He grabs it and rushes off to throw the debris out into space where it can’t harm anyone again. When I turn back, Kurt’s spraying acid over the metal of his workbench. I can only hope we’re going to reach Khem and Abydos before any further damage occurs.

When I return to the main deck for dinner, Misha has gone out into space, no longer a danger to any ship, but Traci is calling me Captain Sweetcheeks. I’m not sure that this bodes well. There could still be problems with The Eye, and that makes me worry.

~

Khem is finally in the viewscreen, a glittering golden sphere that fills me with homesickness as it grows larger. Of course it’s mostly desert, but once we drop into orbit, we’ll be able to circle around to Abydos, my city, and Tefnut, the little sea beside which it stands. I’m currently navigating my way down into orbit while Kurt yells at someone from the department of Nephthys—or engineering as he insists on calling it. He’s doing his best to get us a berth in the department so The Eye can be fumigated. Jensen is next to me, watching what I do as I guide the ship down towards planetfall, and if he’s pressing a little too close to me, moist breath in my ear as he watches, I can deal. I know he just wants to learn. Anat will forgive me if ignore my poor cock. It hasn’t yet learned that Jensen is off limits until he makes his own choice.

Once we’re down on the ground, I pop open the hatch, desperate to catch my first glimpses of Abydos, her shining white marble temples and basalt streets. I’ve been away for far too long. As I step down from the hatch a squad of Horus militia march up to me. “Envoy Padalecki, if you and your party would come with me...?”

It’s not as if we have a choice, but I am happy to follow the birdbrains to our mutual destination, since I haven’t (knowingly at any rate) done anything wrong this time. I take my time to luxuriate in the scents and sights of home, and even the chirping of the croakadiles, warning the unwary bathers that they are hungry.

We follow the waterfront past glittering obelisks and sphinxes, past marble temples and a thriving street market, and eventually arrive at the Capital. There are, of course stairs, many stairs, and gigantic, carved pillars proclaiming the gods in all their glory. Beside me, I hear Jensen gasping at the artwork that covers every part of them.

Up the stairs we go until I am sure if I reached up I could fondle Nut’s navel. Once we plunge inside the building, she’s there above us in all her painted beauty, stretched out in the heavens among the stars, and of course the ceiling is so high there’s no way I can touch after all. Jensen is crowding me again, pressed to my side as we walk, and I think he may be intimidated by the surroundings, so I put an arm around him.

He melts against me, and with Kurt following behind we proceed to the audience chamber. There are two voices of the gods present, The Sekhmet, who I expected, and The Mekhit. The Mekhit’s presence gives me pause, although I do bow low before both ladies.

They are wearing their lion masks, and I almost panic at that. The Mekhit is the Eye that seeks out evil doers, and I hope she doesn’t believe that I would do evil. Jensen follows my lead as I squat before them, while Kurt, whose older body apparently does not permit squatting drops down to sit, bones cracking as he folds himself into a position of respect. Despite her forbidding headgear, The Mekhit holds out her hand in blessing and then, with a nod from The Sekhmet, steps down from the dais to perch on the edge of it and addresses us, or more properly speaking, Jensen.  
“Jensen,” she says, and Jensen’s eyes open wide. “We are all ashamed at what has happened to you. On behalf of the Emperor we apologise to you and yours and ask that you forgive us for permitting this atrocity to happen within our realm.”

Jensen nods, then thinks better of it and clears his throat. “Thank you,” he says, and it’s apparent that he isn’t quite sure how to address the representative of the goddess.

“I am here to tell you that the Kallian Senator’s ship has been destroyed along with all its crew. We hope that this is acceptable in your eyes.”

I can feel the tremor that goes through Jensen’s body, see the tears spring to his eyes, and his face pales, but he inclines his head and nods his acceptance. “I thank you, Goddess,” is all he says, and I want to hold him tightly as he silently mourns the loss of the child he never knew. If he were mine, I would hold him tight. I would.  
The Mekhit smiles approvingly at him and turns to leave, one hand raised in farewell.

There’s a pause as she goes, and I can’t take my eyes off Jensen, sending him what support I can through my thoughts.

After a few minutes, the Sekhmet clears her throat and when I look back, in the name of Ma’at’s fluffiest feathers, she’s returned to her less imposing cat head, and that makes me feel a little better. I open my mouth to tell her about the possible danger to my ship, but she holds up her hand. “Your ship is safe, my friend,” she says. “All will be well. It’s being fumigated as we speak, and there will be a new computer installed along with replacements for the seriously corroded air scrubbers.”

Behind me, I hear Kurt laugh heartily, and at my side even Jensen gives a tiny hiccup of laughter.

“Hydrogen sulfide does terrible things to air scrubbers, Captain. I would have made the suggestion myself to replace the scrubbers.” Kurt speaks respectfully, but Jensen is less elegant in his censure.

“I’ve cut down the amount of beans he eats, but I’m not sure where we take Jared to fit him with a scrubber.”

“Hey! Not in front of the Goddess, please…,” I protest, but it’s too late. 

“It’s not even decently surreptitious is it?” Kurt rolls his eyes.

“Well, it is, but only if you don’t count the times he raises both hands in the air and shouts ‘I am Fartacus’ after a particularly loud explosion.” Jensen giggles, and even The Sekhmet is laughing now. I greatly fear I am no longer regarded as cool, despite my manly exterior and daring deeds. I can feel myself about to burst into flames as the blood rises to my face.

The Sekhmet is still snickering as she turns back to me. “I will have the servants of Qebhet bring you a potion that will help,” she murmurs, and I grit my teeth, anger and shame warring for supremacy in my bowels, then I bow my thanks to her amid the continued merriment.

A handmaiden appears, bearing a small basket, and The Sekhmet takes it with a smile. Turning to Jensen, she lays her hand on his head for a moment.

“Jensen of Minkota, I appoint you to the position of Ambassador on behalf of the Empire and of Khem.” She holds out the basket, and places it into his astonished grasp. “This is your mission. Firstly, you are to journey to Rigel IV and meet with the Emperor and his heir.” She whisks open the lid of the basket to reveal a small, contented looking cat. The cat opens one eye and makes a noise that roughly translates as, ‘Do you mind? I’m trying to sleep here.’ 

“This is Bastet,” the Goddess tells us. “She is pregnant, and she will have two kittens. One you will present to the Emperor’s heir to cement the goodwill between the Empire, Minkota, and Khem. The other you will take to Station Consuelo, and present him to the Marks as a playmate for their new child, along with a gentle request that they visit us here on Khem, since we have news to impart to them about a pair of Chads that have come to our notice. Bastet herself you may keep. She will protect your ship from further calamity and bring good fortune. Her presence will also afford you good health when you most need it.”

Jensen’s eyes lose that lost look as he gazes down at Bastet and gently fondles her fur, while I, less of a romantic, am thinking about the need for containing cat litter in occasional zero gravity. I almost lose it as Bastet herself gives me a glare and I detect a thought from her that basically calls me a buzzkill. I guess it’s okay for her, but he’s not petting _my_ ears.

Her response to that can only be interpreted as, ‘sucks to be you,’ as she snuggles her head up against Jensen’s fingers and smiles a smug, catty smile.

Things move swiftly after this. An august personage, who turns out to be the head of the Minkotan Courtesan Guild—here to confirm Jensen as Ambassador on behalf of Minkota as well as Khem—takes him away, leaving me with Bastet. I make puppy eyes at Kurt, but he raises his hands in surrender and says, “Sorry, live animals are above my pay grade.”

*You’re getting paid?” I ask in mock horror, and am pleased to note waves of amusement coming from the little creature. Reassured a little, I reach in to pet her, and it isn’t dreadful. Sighing, I give myself over to the task. I can see that my place in the ship’s hierarchy has taken a dive, but given that I had no crew up until a few decan ago I am content to accept my demotion. 

We pass the time until Jensen is returned to us. His new appearance is somewhat startling, since his delightful ruff has been dyed an exquisite shade of purple, and he now has the golden torque that is his badge of office clasped around his neck. For a moment I worry that my humble ship will be replaced, and that I’m going to lose him to a more magnificent mode of transport, but it’s obviously a thought that he catches, because he grins at me and raises his right hand to show me the palm. On it I see that he’s been given the same tattoo that I bear, that of the Eye of Ra.

“Does this mean you’re going to stay with us on The Eye?” I ask him, and my knees are wobbling a little as I await his answer. 

He doesn’t say anything at first. The pause stretches out for what seems like hours. I’m starting to panic, wondering what I can offer him to make him stay with me and not abandon me in favor of some flashy space cruiser with more exciting people and maybe a holodeck like they had on that Star Track. I’m just wondering if I can get Kurt to build us one as a temptation when he smiles, and I space out for a second. The shine of him is something I still haven’t been able to get rid of. “You don’t think I would desert you, do you?” he says. “I pledged to you. I can’t ever leave you until you release me.”

“Huh?” Not the most intelligent retort, I grant you, but by Hathor’s perky nipples, my brain has been stunned into silence by that smile.

“I pledged to you,” he says again. “Remember? After you saved me from the Kallians. You’ll need to release me from my pledge if you want rid of me.”

“What would happen if I did that?” I ask him. Inquiring minds need to know and all of that. I realize too late that it really wasn’t a good question to ask him. For a moment he looks shocked, the smile I was bathing in gone, like the sun behind clouds.

“Then I would need to kill myself, of course,” he announces, and I shudder.

“Oh, no you don’t!” This is something I am very certain about. How dare he contemplate such a thing?

“Are you releasing me from my pledge?” he asks, almost too quietly for me to hear.

“In the name of Ma’at, no I am not!” I shout, and he flinches. “You’re mine. You belong to The Eye. You belong… to my crew,” I finish, thinking that I almost gave myself away then. He doesn’t belong to me. He never will belong to me, because he is a shining visitor from the gods, and I am merely tall and… and gassy.”

The Sekhmet calls to us once more, and the three of us turn back to attend her. Her first words are to Kurt, and he looks somewhat apprehensive at first. She welcomes him by name, and I’ve never known how the gods learn these things. He seems a little bemused, but when she presents him with a small shiny piece of machinery, he looks utterly delighted. Whatever it is, it’s obviously something that he wanted. That makes me happy, because he needs to feel like a part of our crew, and not like an outsider. To be chosen by a goddess, even if it is not your goddess, is life affirming. I make a mental note to ask him just what gods he admires, if any.

Jensen is next, and she blesses him, calls him chosen and tells him that his skill set would have been wasted on remaining a courtesan and that his path has been blessed by the gods. She ruffles his newly purple ruff, which elicits a squeak from him. That makes Kurt laugh, and I don't know why, but I’m jealous — jealous of The Sekhmet for touching him when he should belong to me, and jealous of Kurt for feeling free to laugh at my beautiful boy, for having the kind of friendship with him that I am afraid to claim, for... I don’t know what, only that he ought to be mine, and yet he isn’t.

The other two are thanking the goddess and bidding her farewell as she turns to me. Kurt is showing Jensen his wonderful new gizmo as they make their way out of the room, accompanied by a pair of the Horus guards. I don’t have the time to eavesdrop on them and discover what it is that’s made Kurt so all-fired happy, because The Sekhmet is handing me a package of information about our new destination and the kind of events we’ll be expected to attend. I bow my thanks and am about to take my leave, but she stops me, holding up one hennaed hand.

“Before you depart, you should know that the gods are with you. Bastet will protect you and comfort you, and you will have that which you wish for if you will only be patient.” 

Bastet! For a moment I freeze. Jensen didn’t have the basket with him when he left, did he? He was busy inspecting Kurt’s magnificent thingamajig. I look around myself hastily and spy it leaning up against the dais. Gathering it up, I check that its occupant is still within and receive a sleepy purr in response. That could’ve been disastrous, I think. Leaving behind a gift from the gods is a sure fire way of inviting trouble. Breathing a sigh of relief, I bid The Sekhmet goodbye and take myself off to find the other two.

~

I find them in a small office, both filling out forms under the watchful eyes of one of the scribes of Thoth. A priestess of Seshat is busily counting out coins in the corner of the room, and as I raise my eyebrows, the Thoth makes a faint twittering sound, which apparently Jensen understands, because he takes his paperwork over to it and stands back to let the scribe check it over. By this time, Kurt has completed his, too, and passes it to the Thoth, who glances at it and then gestures for the priestess to come forward.

Kurt turns to me. “This is wonderful. I came along for the ride, but now i am to be an official member of your crew.”

“You already were,” I mumble.

“Yes, but now we get paid!” Jensen interrupts, and I frown. 

“I was going to pay you,” I say, feeling a little bit hurt. “We haven’t actually been to many places where there were stores, though, have we?”

“True,” agrees Kurt, while Jensen merely smirks and brandishes a shiny new credit card.

“Not yet, but we can go shopping now!”

Apparently, my beautiful ambassador Jensen has a shopping gene. As Kurt collects his own card and they are both injected with the chip that proclaims them citizens of Khem and eligible for medical benefits, I relax. This takes care of many problems I hadn’t ever foreseen. I make a promise to Hathor that I will chastise myself for failing them later and then grin. “Okay. Let’s go shopping,” I say. 

~

The central market at Abydos is seething with activity, native Khemi, visiting aliens, and creatures of all kinds all pressed together in a dance of frantic commerce. It’s been my experience that everything is for sale, and if it’s for sale you can buy it here. Jensen gives a whoop and plunges into the melee, eager to experience the joys of the chase. Kurt and I follow him like proud parents, enjoying his enthusiasm as he haggles and bargains, laughing and joking with the merchants he’s targeted.

He’s unstoppable, and it’s not long until both Kurt and I are pressed into service as porters to carry his goods. For all his excitement and energy, I am aware that he’s discriminating. The things he buys are excellent quality, and what he pays for them makes me blink. It’s evident that his behavior on Postlethwaite wasn’t a fluke. The man is sudden destruction to merchants, and I’m glad that he’s on our side.

As the afternoon shadows grow longer and then longer still, we find ourselves exhausted, sitting at a roadside bar looking for refreshment. There are musicians playing out in the street, and the pipes and lutes are infectious, making even me want to dance. We’re served with glasses of the milk of Hesed, and plates of grilled croakadile meat tossed in some spicy, tangy sauce along with almond pastries dipped in a syrup that’s sticky sweet. Watching Jensen eat it all with absolute relish is intoxicating, far more so than the beer. 

Bastet creeps out of her basket as the dusk draws in and begs for scraps of croakadile. Watching her gleaning the last scraps from Kurt’s plate and knowing that she’s eating for three, I order her a dish of her own, minus the sauce, and she head-butts me before digging in. I guess I could learn to live with her. She’s very polite. When I say that out loud, Jensen giggles, and the thought that emanates from her tiny noggin at that would blister the toughest skin. I’m shocked at her command of the language.

Dusk is advancing—the sweet moment of indifference between day and night—and as lights flicker on in the bar behind us, Jensen gathers his purchases together and rises to his feet.

“We should take all this stuff back to the ship,” he says. “Once I start dancing, I’m likely to forget and leave it all behind, and that would be sad.”

“We can come back after we put this stuff away. I like dancing.” I gaze at Kurt, open-mouthed.

“You like to dance?” I ask him. He so doesn’t seem the type.

“Oh, I love to,” says Kurt, and, truth to tell, I can see his feet tapping. The concept of Kurt gliding around the floor with Jensen in his arms assails me, and I shudder. 

“Come on. Let’s get this pile of goodies back to the ship,” I say and pick up Bastet’s basket as I turn to go.

~

Back on The Eye once more, Jensen disappears off to his quarters, presumably to gloat over his purchases, and Kurt brandishes his gadget, saying that he’s going to the engine room to test it out. I still don’t have a clue what it is, but I’m sure that in the fullness of time it will be revealed to me, so I nod graciously and watch as he vanishes into the depths of the ship. Bastet climbs out of her basket once more and settles on the bridge beside my viewscreen. 

Sitting there with her, I contemplate how things are turning out, while petting fuzzy little ears. If I am to have that which I wish for, why do I feel so lost and alone?


End file.
